The Boston Brotherhood
by ShadowFang96
Summary: This is my first semi-serious fanfic. I am a huge fan of both BS and AC, and I have yet to come across a single crossover of the two, so I decided to write my own. I'm not exactly a professional, but I do put thought, time, and a lot of effort into my writing. So please, let me know what you think. Also, just so everyone knows, I do not own AC or BS. Sadly...
1. Chapter 1

"Ya ready?" Connor Macmanus asked his twin.

"Aye," Murphy replied as he flicked away the remainder of his cigarette. They walked in silence down the dark street, stopping just outside of a shady alleyway in downtown Boston. They had heard of a supposed drug deal going down in this location, and as they peeked around the corner to investigate, they knew the information was legit. Several men were huddled together, whispering quietly to one another. One of them produced a small package from his coat pocket, and exchanged it to another man for a wad of bills.

"Jesus Christ," Connor muttered as he drew his two suppressed Berettas from their holsters. "Bunch o' fuckin' lowlives." He looked over to his brother, who had since drawn his own set of suppressed pistols, and whispered "Let's be quick about this, aye?" Murphy gave his brother a reassuring nod, and the irishmen walked side by side into the alley toward their victims.

It wasn't difficult. The men were unarmed, which made it all too easy for the twins. The bullets began to fly, and in moments it was over. One man tried to run, but he wasn't quick enough. Each twin fired a round into either of his legs, sending him tumbling to the ground. They grabbed him by his collar and pulled him to his knees, each placing a pistol to the back of his head. They pulled their rosaries from the insides of their coats, and began reciting their infamous prayer. "And shepards we shall be," they began.

The drug dealer wept, begging them to spare his life. But they ignored his plea and continued. "For Thee my Lord, for Thee. Power hath descended forth from Thy hand, that our feet may swiftly carry out Thy command. So we shall flow a river forth to Thee. And teaming with souls shall it ever be. In nomine Patriis et Filli, et Spiritus Sancti." And as their prayer concluded, the brothers each fired a round into the back of the man's skull, silencing him forever.

Unaware that they were being watched, Connor and Murphy proceeded to fold the deceased criminals' arms over their chests, placing pennies in each of their eyes, as was their ritual. When they finished, the brothers turned to leave, but were intercepted by a figure who stepped from the shadows. "Quite the performance boys," the stranger said, clapping softly. "Couldn't have done it better myself." The twins, alarmed, each raised a pistol in defense. The stranger wore a black hoodie and black pants.

"Who the fuck are you?" Murphy asked angrily. The hooded man ignored the question, looking around the alley at the corpses.

"Yes, very nice work. I wonder," he trailed off, and grew quiet. Now it was Connor's turn to speak.

"Answer teh fuckin' question 'fore me an' me brother fill your arse with holes." This made the man smile under his hood.

"No need for that now, gentlemen. I'm not here to fight. In fact, you did me a favor by dealing with these men. I've been tracking one of them for quite some time," he looked to one of the bodies and frowned, but quickly continued. "He was in league with some very bad people." Murphy scoffed.

"Teh fuck is tha' supposed ta mean? Who teh fuck are ya? You a cop or somethin'?" At that, the stranger chuckled.

"I'm certainly not a cop. Let's just say, I work for an organization that values talented individuals such as yourselves. We work in the shadows, doing very much the same thing you two have taken it upon yourselves to do." The brothers lowered their guns, only slightly, and exchanged quizzical glances.

"Teh fuck are ya goin' on about? Explain yerself," Connor demanded.

**_A/N: Revised to make reading easier. Enjoy, and please leave me a review._**


	2. Chapter 2

Sirens sounded in the distance. The brothers glanced nervously at one another, and the hooded man sighed. "We'll have to continue this discussion some other time." He lowered his hood for the first time, and they could finally make out his face. He was a bit older than them, and clean shaven. He had short blonde hair and blue eyes, and looked like any normal person you'd meet in a bar or club. But there was something about him that told the twins he was dangerous. "I am not your enemy, Saints," he started quietly.

Murphy grimaced. "Ya know about us?"

The man chuckled softly and continued. "That's right, I know all about you two. But that will have to wait. We need to get out of the area before the authorities arrive." He pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket, holding it out to Connor. The older Macmanus looked at it for a moment, debating on whether or not to trust the man. But he finally sighed and took it from him. The stranger smiled and pulled his hood back over his face. "If you boys really want to help make a difference in the world, then meet me there tomorrow at midnight. I will explain everything." And then he took off, running silently out of the alley and disappearing from view. Murphy wanted to follow him, to demand answers, but the sirens grew louder and he knew they had to get out of the area or they would be arrested. With a sigh and a silent curse, Connor shoved the piece of paper into his jean pocket and wrapped an arm around his brother.

"C'mon," he said. "Let's go." Murphy nodded, and they sprinted out of the alley.

It took over an hour for them to reach the apartment complex where they lived. They had to make several detours to avoid the police cruisers that were patrolling the city. By the time they arrived, they were exhausted. They entered their apartment and hung their rosaries by the door. Murphy kicked off his boots and threw his peacoat to the floor, collapsing on his mattress. Connor sat down on his own bed, staring off into nothingness. Several minutes passed before Murphy broke the silence. He sat up in a hurry, almost falling to the floor, and yelled, "What teh fuck was that? Jesus fuckin' Christ Connor! That fuckin' guy was weird! Who teh fuck was he?" He popped a cigarette in his mouth and lit it, inhaling deeply before continuing. "Ya heard him, didn't ya? He knows exactly who we are. What if he's a fuckin' fed? Wha' the hell are we gonna do?" Connor stared at his brother for a moment, and finally a grin broke across his face.

"Calm your arse down, Murph. We'll be fine. I don' think he was a fed. Remember, he was in jus' as much of a hurry to get outta there as we were," He paused to light his own cigarette, and blew smoke rings absentmindedly for a few moments. "Still," he finally started. "That was pretty fuckin' strange."

Murphy stubbed his cigarette out in a nearby ashtray, and asked, "What about tha' bit o' paper he gave ta ya? Wha' was it?" After everything that had happened, Connor had completely forgotten about it. He pulled the now crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket and unfolded it, scanning it's contents. "Well?" Murphy asked. "What does it say?" Connor was thoughtful for a moment, savoring the last drag of his smoke before flicking it away. "Come on ya damn dumb bastard," Murphy joked. "Wha' teh fuck does it say?" Connor smirked and handed the paper to his brother.

"It's an address. The place is jus' a few blocks from here."

Murphy grew quiet for a while, his expression darkening. "This is too fuckin' weird Connor. It sounds like a set up."

Connor yawned. "Aye, you're damn right it does. But I'm fuckin' beat. We'll talk about it in teh mornin'." The blonde Macmanus tossed his guns on the floor by his bed and pulled his blanket over himself. Murphy sighed and stood up to flip off the lights. He picked up Connor's Berettas and placed them on a coffee table along with his own, and lay back on his mattress. "G'night Murph," Connor mumbled.

"Night, Con," Murphy replied. Both brothers were asleep in seconds.

_**A/N: Nothing fancy, but it's all building up to some interesting shit. Be patient.** _


	3. Chapter 3

Connor slept in; it was almost noon when he finally awoke. He sat up and looked over to Murphy's bed, rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes. "Mornin' Murph." Connor blinked. He wasn't there. Murphy was gone. The blonde Macmanus was suddenly wide awake. He checked the entire apartment; the bathroom, closet, even under the beds. His brother was gone. "Son of a bitch." He got dressed as quickly as he could, and bolted for the door. He ripped it open, and crashed right into his twin, who fell on his ass.

"Teh fuck!" Murphy grumbled. Connor pulled him to his feet and embraced him.

"Where teh fuck were you ya damn fool? Ya had me scared to death."

Murphy smirked. "Well, Ma, I went to buy some smokes, seein' as how we were out." He pulled a pack from his pocket, handing it to his brother before walking inside and plopping down on his bed. Connor grumbled something about Murphy being a smartass, and how he shouldn't be going out alone. But after a few cigarettes, he was over it.

"So," Murphy started, lighting his third smoke. "Have ya thought about what we're gonna do? About tha' guy from las' night?" Connor was quiet for a moment.

"Well, it would be damn stupid ta go, jus' because the man told us to. Like ya already said, he could be settin' us up. I don't want ta take any fuckin' chances. We need ta lay low." He paused to stub out his cigarette, and continued. "But then again, he knows who we are. He watched us kill those men last night. Despite everythin' he said about wanting to help us, he could still go ta the police. We can't jus' ignore him, especially since he knows so much. He could put us away for a long time."

Murphy grimaced at the thought of going to prison. "So wha' do we do?"

Connor pondered this for a minute, lighting another cigarette and taking a long drag before answering. "We go ta the place, an' we find out if he's legit. And if he's not," he looked his brother dead in the eye. "We kill him."

_**A/N: Once again, nothing too groundbreaking happens in this chapter. But the story is still in progress, so keep an eye out. As always, leave me a review.**_


	4. Chapter 4

It was approaching midnight, and the twins were making their way to the address they were given. After about fifteen minutes of walking in silence through the slums of Boston, they arrived at a decrepit old warehouse. Several of its windows were smashed, and graffiti covered its walls. The door was chained shut, and a NO TRESSPASSING sign was nailed into its wooden frame. Murphy scoffed. "Teh fuck is this? Place is fuckin' deserted. C'mon, le's go." He turned to leave, but Connor gripped his arm.

"We're not alone." Murphy was instantly on his guard, looking around anxiously. The twins each drew their pistols, scanning the shadows around them.

"Relax, boys," the brothers turned in surprise, finding the man from the previous night standing directly behind them. Though they each held two guns apiece to his head, he didn't seem the least bit concerned. "I'm glad you came. Honestly, I was starting to think you weren't gonna show."

Murphy growled. "Why teh fuck'd ya want us ta meet ya here? This place looks like a gang hideout or somethin'. Connor spoke next.

"Aye, tis place is fuckin' creepy. Ya might want ta start explainin' some things, 'fore we lose our patience." The man only chuckled.

"Of course. I promised you answers, didn't I? But please, let's continue this discussion inside. Safer that way."

Murphy frowned. "Why should we trust ya? How do we know you're not settin' us up ta be arrested, or murdered?" The man's cheerful demeanor instantly evaporated.

"I told you last night, I am not your enemy. If I wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead." He fixed them with a gaze so intense, they knew immediately that he wasn't bluffing. They were taken aback; there was something weird about this man. Slowly, they lowered their guns, and a smile returned to the stranger's face. "Thank you, boys. I really don't want to fight. I have a truly amazing proposal for you, and I would hate for such a small misunderstanding to ruin it. Now come on, let's get inside." He turned, and without another word, sprinted towards the warehouse, diving through one of the broken windows. The Irishmen shared a nervous glance before walking over and climbing, with some difficulty, through the same window.

Murphy tripped over something, falling flat on his face. "Shit." Connor chuckled and helped him to his feet. When their eyes adjusted to the darkness, they took in their surroundings. Nothing but old crates. broken glass, and other bits of trash. The hooded man was nowhere to be seen. They made their way through the mess as carefully as they could, but the years of neglegence and debris buildup made it difficult. Murphy cursed, kicking a box several feet. "Where teh fuck did he go?"

Connor was getting nervous. "Where are ya?" He called. His voice echoed throughout the warehouse." Quiet laughter came from somewhere above, and they looked up. The hooded man sat atop several crates, stacked about ten feet high.

"Right up here, boys."

Connor raised a pistol. "Teh fuck are ya doin'? Quit fuckin' around. Jus' tell us what ya brought us here to tell us." The man stood, and stepped over the edge. He landed with the grace of a cat, completely unharmed.

"Very well. Follow me."

_**A/N: Chapter still in progress.** _


End file.
